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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584878">blushed like canned cranberry sauce</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zofiecfield/pseuds/Zofiecfield'>Zofiecfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wynonna Earp (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff, Holidays</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:39:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zofiecfield/pseuds/Zofiecfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wynonna invites the new deputy to Friendsgiving, and Waverly is unprepared for the joy that is Nicole Haught.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>520</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tuesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, I invited Nicole to Friendsgiving,” Wynonna hollered as she walked through the front door.</p><p>“Nicole who?” Waverly called back from the kitchen.</p><p>“The new deputy.  You two have met, right?”  Wynonna bent to tug off her boots by the door.  “I overheard Nedley inviting her to his house and intervened.  Thanksgiving with your brand new bossman?  <em>Awkward.”</em></p><p>Waverly appeared in the kitchen doorway.  Her eyes were a bit wild, sparkling with the edges of panic.  “Nicole, like,” she said haltingly, gesturing several inches above her head, “with the,” gesturing to her hair.</p><p>Wynonna quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Yes.  That one,” she said slowly, studying her sister’s face.  “And she’s been crashing at that shit motel over on 2<sup>nd</sup>, so I offered her Willa’s room until her apartment is ready on Monday.”</p><p>Waverly visibly paled.  “Hmm,” voice high, sucking in a little breath.  “Nice.”</p><p>“Wait a second,” Wynonna said, taking a step towards Waverly.  “You’re being weird.  You love being a hostess, so why are you being weird…”  She stopped a couple inches from Waverly and peered into her eyes.  Waverly turned away quickly and hustled back into the kitchen.</p><p>Wynonna gasped a little.  “Do you -?”  She let out low chuckle and smirked.  “I don’t blame you, Baby Girl.  She is kinda hot.”</p><p>“Shut up, Wynonna,” Waverly sang, refusing to look at her.</p><p>“This is going to be fun,” Wynonna crowed.</p><p>“Knock, knock.”  Waverly whipped around to see Nicole Haught standing behind Wynonna in the kitchen doorway.  Waverly’s mouth went desert dry.</p><p>Wynonna smirked at her, and tossed a thumb over her shoulder.  “Did I mention she was coming right over?”</p><p>“You did not,” Waverly said, clipped and quiet, shooting her a quick glare, then offering a stiff smile to Nicole.</p><p>“Oh no, am I imposing?”  Nicole took a step back, glancing between the sisters.  “I’m just gonna go.”</p><p>Waverly sprung forward and shouted, “No!”  Nicole froze. </p><p>“No,” Waverly said again, this time in her inside voice. “You’re very welcome.  The more the merrier!  Why don’t you go upstairs and get settled, and then we can all have some dinner.” </p><p>Waverly looked pointedly at Wynonna, who gave her one more silly smile, then spun and directed Nicole up the stairs, flight attendant style. </p><p>As she left, Nicole shot Waverly a quick, dimpled grin.  Waverly’s knees went weak. </p><p>This was going to be a long few days.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nicole reappeared in the kitchen not five minutes later.  Just long enough for Waverly’s heartrate to return to baseline, but not nearly long enough for her knees to totally resolidify. </p><p>“Smells amazing,” Nicole said, giving the air an exaggerated sniff. </p><p>Waverly’s face went hot.  She blamed it on the heat from the oven.  “Vegan lasagna,” she said, peeking into the oven to drag tin foil off the pan.</p><p>“Yum!” </p><p>Waverly's skin prickled, self-conscious alone with Nicole in the kitchen, and unsure what to do with this unexpected guest.  Then she heard the tap turn on. </p><p>She glanced over her shoulder, to find Nicole testing the temperature of the water with her wrist.  Satisfied, Nicole soaped up a sponge and began washing dishes.  Without being asked and without drawing any attention.  Feeling the eyes on her, she glanced up and caught Waverly staring. </p><p>Waverly startled out of her daze and inadvertently slammed the oven door shut.  “Just gotta let it crisp up,” she muttered, breathlessly, running a hand through her hair.</p><p>Nicole grinned and returned to the dishes.  Waverly fidgeted for a moment, hands twitching in indecision.  Nicole held out a dripping dish, with a funny little look over her shoulder.  A funny little look Waverly couldn’t quite read. </p><p>Waverly jolted forward and grabbed a dry towel.  She studiously avoided touching Nicole’s hand as she retrieved the dish from her.</p><p>“So,” Nicole started, into the silence that hung between them.  A smile played on the corner of her lips.  “Wynonna tells me you’re a professor at the Ghost River Community Colleges?  You’re so young!  You must be great at what you do.”</p><p>Waverly blushed fiercely, staring down intently at the dish in her hands.</p><p>“And you do consultant work with Black Badge?  So cool.  I worked on a case with them this week, just for a little bit, and the whole team is just so sharp.”  Nicole was looking straight at her now, and Waverly couldn’t help but glance up to meet her gaze.  “You seem like an impressive woman, Waverly Earp.  I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”</p><p>Waverly’s mind went a little blank in the midst of this warm praise, delivered bluntly and boldly by the most gorgeous woman she’d ever had the pleasure of washing dishes with.  In her kitchen.  Unexpectedly.  On a Tuesday evening.</p><p>Nicole tilted her head a bit.  “Will you tell me about what you teach?” </p><p>There was that smile again, dancing around her lips.  Waverly dragged her eyes away from it and launched into a longwinded and increasingly passionate description of her research and teaching on the role of women in ancient language development.  She got herself on a stress-fueled roll, hands gesturing, voice excited. </p><p>She forgot, for a moment, to be nervous.  She forgot, and then quite suddenly, she remembered.  She stuttered to a halt.</p><p>She hadn’t noticed the sink emptying.  She hadn’t noticed Nicole turning towards her, possibly taking a step or two forward, definitely holding her eyes intently.  She hadn’t noticed the crinkles around Nicole’s eyes as she listened, and that smile…</p><p>Waverly sucked in a shuddering breath.  “So, yep.  That’s what I teach.” </p><p>“So interesting,” Nicole said.  She appeared genuine, which was a change from the usual glassy-eyed response Waverly received when she described her work to anyone outside the field.  “I’d love to hear more sometime and to read the articles you’ve written.  Though you might need to walk me through them.  I bet they’re way over my head!”</p><p>Waverly couldn’t find a suitable response.  She nodded, a few more times than necessary. </p><p>Then oven timer went off.  An absolute fucking mercy.  She flung herself towards the oven and busied herself finding mitts and removing the hot pan.</p><p>“I’ll set the table,” Nicole said, reaching to snag the basket of napkins sitting on top of the fridge. </p><p>Waverly glanced at the thin line of skin that peaked out from under Nicole’s sweater.  She shut her eyes for a quick second and prayed to whatever gods would listen. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Wednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waverly woke early, beating the sun by a mile.  The day prior to a holiday held a special place in her heart.  A day to make lists and get organized.  A day to prepare something special for the people you love.  She slipped downstairs in her pajamas like Christmas morning, jazzed to get started.</p><p>She was only just finishing the draft of her list of chores and various To Dos when the stairs creaked.  Nicole walked into the kitchen, all flannel and jean and sleep-mussed braid.  “Good morning,” she said, with that bright grin. </p><p><em>Right</em>… Nicole.  Waverly had, for a moment, forgotten.  Her hand shot to check her hair faster than her brain could muster a plan, finding an excellent mess. </p><p>But, too late for that now.  Pajamas and bedhead it was.  She signed internally, resigned.  “Good morning.  How did you sleep?”</p><p>Nicole pulled out a chair and joined her at the kitchen table.  “Far better than at the motel, thanks.  Less fights and way less bugs.  You’re up early!”</p><p>“Big day, lots to do,” Waverly chirped, too high.  She dragged her voice down a smidge, and tried again. “Can I make you some tea?”</p><p>“No, thanks.  I’m fine.  Can I make <em>you</em> some tea?”  Nicole had taken the list from her hand, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as she did. </p><p>This woman was really too much.  Honestly.  Who behaves like this, all sweet and considerate and smooth as hell?  Waverly’s mind went a fuzzy shade of purple.  “Huh?”</p><p>A chuckle, low and pleased.  “So, which one of these can I start with?”  Nicole read down the list.  “Iron the tablecloth?  Dust?  Oh!  I can handle restocking the woodpile.  I’m excellent with an ax.”</p><p>“I bet you are,” Waverly groaned, far too low now.  Damn it.  She plucked the list from Nicole’s hand.  “No!  No.  You’re our guest.  I’ve got this covered.”</p><p>Nicole tilted her head ever so slightly to the side and met Waverly’s eyes.  She waited for a moment, a little sure smile on her lips.</p><p>“No,” Waverly repeated, tearing her eyes away.</p><p>“Give me your least favorite task.  The one you really dread.  Please?”  Nicole placed one hand on hers, light and warm and capable and <em>shit</em>.  “I will feel awful just sitting here while you work.”</p><p>Waverly could feel herself being played, and skillfully at that, and she sang far too easily.  “Floors.  You can do the floors,” she sighed.  Her eyes ticked back up to Nicole’s, finding the spark of triumph there and a hint of amusement there. </p><p>Nicole held Waverly’s eyes for a long moment, hand still sitting on its perch.  “Excellent.”</p><p> </p><p>Wynonna arrived an hour later, clattering bleary-eyed into the hall.  “It’s too early,” she stated, as a fact.</p><p>“Hustle up, sleepy head,” Waverly called from the other room.  “I have a list of jobs for you.”</p><p>Wynonna groaned and turned towards the kitchen, intent on hunting down some coffee first.  Early bird was not a matrilineal genetic trait, it appeared.  On her way, she stumbled straight over Nicole, who was on hands and knees scrubbing a baseboard. </p><p>Nicole shot out a hand to catch Wynonna as she fell.  “Morning,” she laughed.</p><p>Wynonna surveyed the scene.  Her face started to wake up, and it woke up feisty.  “Waverly Earp,” she shouted, giddy.  “You’re having our guest scrub the floors?  I don’t believe this!  What kind of hostess are you?”</p><p>“She offered!” Waverly yelled back, tumbling into the hallway from the kitchen in a bit of a panic.</p><p>Nicole looked at Wynonna, face entirely flat.  “She told me I had to earn my keep. I’ve been up since before dawn, scrubbing and scrubbing.  She wouldn’t even let me have tea, and I’m so cold.”</p><p>Waverly gasped and opened her mouth to object but was stopped short by the mischievous smirk slinking onto Nicole’s lips.  Wynonna burst out laughing.</p><p>“I’m liking you less and less,” Waverly said, pointing a finger at Nicole, only just barely biting back a laugh herself.  She spun back into the kitchen.</p><p>“I’m liking you more and more,” Wynonna chuckled, offering a hand and hauling Nicole up from the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Wynonna walked into the kitchen and pulled a gallon of apple cider from the fridge.  She went in search of mugs.</p><p>“No, Wynonna,” Waverly said, returning the gallon to the fridge.  “That’s for tomorrow.”</p><p>“You have three gallons in there!” Wynonna protested.  She sidled up behind Waverly, resting a chin on her shoulder.  “Let’s have cider and sit by the fire, just until a more human hour of the morning arrives,” she pleaded.  “Then I’ll be super helpful.  Scout’s honor.”</p><p>Waverly rolled her eyes and ducked away from her sister.  “No.  Get to work.”</p><p>"But we have a guest,” Wynonna said in a stage whisper, nodding dramatically towards Nicole, who was laughing quietly in the doorway, watching the scene.</p><p>“And I scrubbed and I scrubbed and I scrubbed,” Nicole added in a sad hushed tone, doing her best to look pitiful.</p><p>Waverly sighed.  Defeated.  These two were going to be a problem.  “Fine.  Go make a fire.  I’ll do the cider.”</p><p>Wynonna cheered.  “The wood pile is out back,” she said to Nicole, pointing out the back door.  Nicole grinned and headed out the door, shouldering the ax resting against the frame.</p><p>“Go with her!” shouted Waverly, exasperated, shoving Wynonna towards the door.  “She’s our guest!”</p><p>“And here I thought I was giving you the gift of a flannel-clad lesbian using an ax,” Wynonna said, hands raised defensively.  “My mistake.”</p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later, the fire was warming nicely.  Waverly poured three mismatched mugs of hot cider and carried them carefully into the living room.</p><p>She handed the smallest mug to Wynonna, who stuck her tongue out, and set her own down on the side table. </p><p>Nicole was squatting in front of the fireplace, adjusting the logs to feed the flame a bit more.  Waverly took a little breath to steady herself, then walked over and offered the mug.  Nicole stood slowly, her face passing within an inch or two of Waverly’s as she did so.  Without breaking eye contact, she took the mug and offered a quiet smile.  “Thanks,” she said softly, taking a sip.</p><p>In that moment, Waverly could have shifted up ever so slightly to close the gap between them.  She could have tasted cider on those lips.  It was a thought that hit her quite suddenly and made her feel entirely unhinged.</p><p>Wynonna coughed and Waverly tumbled back to her senses.  She sat down next to Wynonna, wrapping herself tightly in a blanket to hold herself together, to keep the jittery potential of things to come at bay.  Nicole piled herself into the chair. </p><p>The fire crackled, and the cider was warm and sweet, and they chatted easily enough. </p><p>And, every now and then, Nicole caught Waverly’s eye and held it for a beat     too     long. </p><p>Each time, her heart held its breath in response.  Potential.</p><p> </p><p>An hour later, just as Waverly was starting to get restless about her list, the front door swung open.</p><p>“’Sup, weirdos?”  A teen walked in, all spunk and swagger.</p><p>“Rachel!”  Waverly sprung up from the couch, shedding blankets as she went.  She rushed to pull the girl into a hug, which was tolerated only barely.   “Let me get you some cider.  Go sit down.”</p><p>Rachel wandered into the living room and plopped down next to Wynonna on the couch. </p><p>Nicole was staring intently at the girl, brow furrowed.  She offered a smile when Rachel looked over at her.  “Hi, Rachel.  I’m Nicole.  How do you know these two?”  Rachel’s brow furrowed in a perfect mirror of hers. </p><p>Wynonna ruffled Rachel’s hair and was promptly swatted away.  “This is our resident stray.  We fed her once and she now she won’t stay away.”</p><p>“Wynonna!”  Waverly shouted from the kitchen. </p><p>Wynonna glanced at Rachel and the two shared a smirk.  “I thought that was accurate,” Rachel deadpanned with a shrug.</p><p>“I feel like I recognize you from somewhere,” Nicole said, shaking her head a little.  “Did you grow up around here?”</p><p>“No, a few counties over,” Rachel started, then paused.  “Wait.  Nicole?  Nicole Haught?”</p><p>The lightbulb turned on.  “Oh my gosh!  Rachel Valdez!”</p><p>“What is happening here?” Wynonna asked, looking back and forth between them.</p><p>Rachel’s face split into a rare grin.  “Nicole was my favorite babysitter when I was a kid.”</p><p>“So, like, last week?” Wynonna snarked, earning herself a smack on the shoulder.</p><p>“Probably 10 years ago now,” Nicole said.  “You were so into monsters back then!  For a whole summer!  Do you remember how we used to build those traps in the backyard?”</p><p>Rachel nodded.  “Do you remember when we caught the neighbor’s cat accidentally?”</p><p>The two shared a laugh at the memory.</p><p>“How’s your mom?”</p><p>Rachel’s quieted, the laughter slipping from her face.  “She passed earlier this year,” she said, evenly.</p><p>Nicole reached out a hand and squeezed Rachel’s knee.  “I’m so sorry, Rachel.  I remember how close you two were.”</p><p>Rachel shrugged and brushed off the gloom of the moment.  “Yeah, well, now I’m stuck trying to parent these two dorks.”  She nodded towards Wynonna, who threw an arm around her shoulders.</p><p>Nicole smiled softly at her.  “And now you have me too.  I just moved here.”</p><p>In the doorway, Waverly stood, silently watching this unfold, heart bursting with a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. </p><p>She brushed a tear from her eye and bustled in with the cider. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Thursday - Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Your friends are here,” Nicole said, peering out the kitchen window.  “And they brought sleeping bags?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, it’s tradition.”  Waverly peeked over her shoulder to wave at the guys trudging down the gravel driveway.   “Friendsgiving starts with dinner-”</p><p>“AND ENDS WITH BREAKFAST,” Rachel and Wynonna chanted at top volume in unison, appearing in the doorway.</p><p>Nicole laughed at their cheer. </p><p>Doc, Dolls, and Jeremy dropped their camping gear on the porch and filed into the kitchen, kicking off boots and dusting off hats. </p><p>“Morning, ladies,” Doc said, tipping his hat to Waverly and extending a hand to Nicole.  “I don’t believe we’ve met.  Doc, Doc Holliday.”</p><p>“Nicole, Nicole Haught,” she said, amused with the formality.  Nicole nodded towards Dolls and accepted an awkward hug from Jeremy.  She had to pat him on the back to get him to let go.</p><p>“I brought offerings for the festivities,” Doc said, thunking two large bottles of whiskey into Wynonna’s arms.  “My mother’s recipe.” </p><p>Wynonna snorted and stashed them on top of the fridge.</p><p>Jeremy ducked around them and handed Waverly a tote.  “The essentials, as promised.”</p><p>Waverly extracted eight cans of gelled cranberry sauce and stacked them with a grin.  “Perfect!”</p><p>Dolls slid a tin-foiled pan onto the counter next to the cans.  “They’re already baked,” he said.  “We can just reheat them tomorrow.”</p><p>Waverly peeked under the tin foil and shot him a soft smile.   “Thank you, Dolls.  They’re lovely.”</p><p>Curious, Nicole lifted the foil and found large cinnamon rolls snuggled in neat rows.  She looked up in surprise.  “Dolls, do you bake?”</p><p>“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dolls said, handing her a bowl full of white icing.  “A man can have hobbies.  Put that in the fridge.”</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later, the kitchen was still crowded chaos.  Waverly stood on a chair in the middle of the room and cleared her throat loudly. </p><p>“It’s so good to see you all, and I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, smiling at each of them in turn.  “Holidays with you are one of my favorite things.  Now scram, I have work to do.”</p><p>She hopped down from the chair and shushed them out of the kitchen. </p><p>“You boys go get set up in the barn.  I left extra blankets and filled the lanterns.  And you two,” she said, rounding on Rachel and Wynonna, “the back seat of the jeep is full of gourds.  Decorate the porch, please.”</p><p>“I’m not doing that,” Rachel said immediately, while Wynonna shook her head.</p><p>“Hush,” Waverly said, and gave her a little shove towards the porch.  “Do what I tell you.” </p><p>She closed the door on all of them and spun around to find herself two inches from Nicole Haught.</p><p>Nicole grinned.  “Reporting for duty, Ma’am.  What’s my assignment?”</p><p>Waverly blushed, half from the proximity, half from the accurate assessment of her holiday boss mode.  “You’re on meal prep duty,” she said, brushing past Nicole, “with me.”</p><p>“I was hoping you’d say that.”</p><p> </p><p>Meal prep with Nicole Haught was pure torture.  Heavenly, utterly delightful, torture.</p><p>They each had a cutting board.  They each had knives.  They each had stacks of vegetables to cut.  Separate workstations, separate tasks. </p><p>And yet somehow, Nicole had frequent need of things just on the other side of Waverly.  She had a way of reaching behind Waverly, <em>excuse me</em> ghosting across Waverly’s neck, fingertips ever so light on her low back.  Waverly could have sworn it was intentional, but that would have implied something she wasn’t quite ready to imply. </p><p>But <em>damn</em>, she was getting readier by the minute.</p><p>As Waverly dumped a pound of black beans into the pressure cooker, Nicole stopped cutting and eyed their work quizzically.  “Hang on… what are we having for dinner?  I didn’t even think to ask.”</p><p>“This year is quinoa taco bowls.  I like to change it up every year.  Let me just get these beans started and we’ll make the salsa.”</p><p>“So, no tofurkey and potatoes?”</p><p>Glancing over her shoulder, Waverly grimaced.  “We did that one year.  It was… underwhelming.  Granted, I was new to vegan cooking at the time, but we’re all too scarred to try again.”</p><p>Nicole smiled and nodded.  “Fair enough.  Do you do all the cooking for these holidays?”</p><p>“Well, Wynonna cooked one year, but-“</p><p>She stopped short as Dolls slammed a palm into the kitchen window, startling them.  He pointed at her sharply.  “We agreed never to speak of that year again,” he said, gruff for an instant before the sly smile slid across his face.</p><p>Waverly laughed and zipped her lips, tossing him the key. </p><p>“A story for another day,” she whispered loudly to Nicole behind her hand, not breaking eye contact with Dolls. </p><p>She could hear him chuckling as he ducked away.</p><p> </p><p>The beans were cooking happily, the salsa was waiting in the fridge, and the veggies were prepped for the pan.  “Now, guacamole,” Waverly said, checking her list. </p><p>Without thinking, she climbed onto the counter, as was her habit.  Edging along the surface in a crouch, she opened the top cabinets until she found the particular wooden bowl she had been looking for.   She blew a bit of dust from it and then shifted to begin her precarious descent.</p><p>Only then did she realize Nicole was standing directly behind her, arms raised in high guard.  “If only you had a handy tall kitchen buddy to help you with that,” Nicole said, eyebrow quirked.</p><p>Waverly blushed fiercely and passed the bowl to Nicole.  “Habit,” she muttered.</p><p>Under Nicole’s watchful eye, Waverly started to climb back down from the counter.  Off balance for reasons entirely unrelated to her vestibular system, and more than a little distracted, Waverly misjudged the distance to the floor.  Before she could stumble, Nicole’s hands were on her hips, steadying her.</p><p>Waverly froze.  In slow motion she dragged her gaze from strong fingers up and up and up to meet the eyes waiting for her intently.  She sucked in a little breath. </p><p>
  <em>Fuck it.  Let’s do this.  </em>
</p><p>Waverly slid a shaking hand around the nape of Nicole’s neck, brushing across the soft baby hairs.  Nicole gently pulled her closer, and time could have stopped completely.</p><p>Could have but didn’t. </p><p>A second before the weight shift, a second before the expectant intake of breath<em>, </em>the kitchen door slammed open and Wynonna tumbled in screaming bloody murder.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>to be continued...</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Thursday, continued (part 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waverly and Nicole sprung apart as Wynonna barreled through them, slipping on the snow and slush she tracked in with her.</p><p>“STOP HIM,” Wynonna screamed, ducking behind Nicole.  “WAVERLY!”</p><p>“Stop who?!?” Waverly shouted, already pulling open the cutlery drawer and assessing her weapon choices.</p><p>Her question was answered when, half a second later, Doc flew into the kitchen. </p><p>“Wynonna Earp, I swear to god,” he growled low in his throat, crouching and ready to jump.</p><p>Waverly shoved something into Nicole’s hand and then leapt for the jar of uncooked quinoa resting on the counter.  Without hesitation, she flipped off the lid and tossed the entire contents across the floor at Doc’s feet.</p><p>“What the hell is going on?” Nicole asked, taut and ready to fight, brandishing the business end of a chopstick.</p><p>Doc froze and looked down at his feet, now surrounded by quinoa. </p><p>Uttering a quiet cuss, his shoulders drooped and he dropped to his knees. </p><p>“One,” he said, placing a single grain into the empty jar.  “Two.”</p><p> </p><p>“That should buy us a bit of time,” Waverly chirped, looking quite pleased with herself. </p><p>She plucked the chopstick from Nicole's hand and shot her a reassuring smile.  Nicole's stance relaxed, but she shifted closer to Waverly anyway, a watchful guard.</p><p>“Now explain what’s going on, Wynonna."</p><p>Wynonna peeked out from behind Nicole and took in the mess.</p><p>“Me explain?  No, girl, you explain.”  Wynonna gestured emphatically towards Doc, who was now counting quietly under his breath, placing quinoa back in the jar, a single grain at a time.  “What the fuck did you do to him?”</p><p>“Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…”</p><p>Waverly looked at her, surprised.  “Don’t you read the articles I send you?”</p><p>Wynonna raised a snarky eyebrow.</p><p>“No, of course not,” Waverly sighed, resigned.  “You really should.”</p><p>“If you had,” Dolls said, leaning against the doorframe, watching this nonsense play out, “you would know that a vampire can’t resist counting spilled grains.  He won’t stop until each grain has been individually counted.”</p><p>He smirked at Wynonna.  “I read the articles.” </p><p>She stuck her tongue out and Nicole bit back a laugh.</p><p>“Exactly, Dolls.”  Waverly beamed at him and then turned back to Wynonna.  “The theories behind why are mixed, but personally, I am of the school of thought that-”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Wynonna interrupted.  “You’re serious?  He’s going to count them all?”</p><p>Waverly nodded, proudly.  “It’s an excellent vampire nonviolent de-escalation tactic.”</p><p>“You’re a clever girl, Waverly Earp," Doc said gruffly, without looking up, "and you’re in a spot trouble once I’m done here.  One hundred fifty-eight, one hundred fifty-nine…”</p><p>“Two hundred two,” Wynonna interjected.  “Two hundred three.”</p><p>Doc ignored her.</p><p>Grinning, Wynonna squatted down behind Nicole to get closer to him, whispering, “One hundred sixty-five.  One hundred sixty-three.”</p><p>Doc paused, then dropped his head in defeat.  “Curse you, woman.  I’ve lost my place.”  He lifted the jar and dumped its contents on the floor again.  “One, two...”</p><p> </p><p>Wynonna cackled, delighted with this new trick. </p><p>Waverly smacked her arm.  “Quit it.  Tell us what’s going on.  Now.”</p><p>Wynonna smiled sweetly at her.</p><p>“Now!” Waverly demanded.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Wynonna said, shrugging, all innocence and bewilderment.</p><p>Waverly rolled her eyes and Doc growled again. </p><p>“She put my hat on a snowman,” he said, indignant enough to pause the count.  “My good hat!  The lining will be all wet now, damn near ruined.” </p><p>Waverly stared at him, brow furrowed.  “My good hat!” he exclaimed again, in case she had misunderstood.</p><p>Waverly turned slowly to glare at Wynonna. </p><p>Wynonna raised both hands, defensively.  “What?  It was funny!”</p><p>“We could have hurt him, Wynonna!”  A look of realization passed across Waverly’s face.  “And you used Nicole as a human shield!”</p><p>Wynonna grinned and shrugged.  “Hey, Doc?”  He glanced up at her, scowling, and she looked him dead in the eye.  “Two hundred seventy-eight.”</p><p>A flicker of panic crossed his face.  He looked back down at his piles of grain. </p><p>“Damn you, woman," he growled, snapping his teeth and tensing as if to lunge.  "I’m coming for you-” </p><p>Wynonna squealed and ran from the house, leaping over his spray of grains.  He nipped at her heels as she passed. </p><p>When she was gone, his shoulders relaxed and turned back to his task, almost content. </p><p>“-just as soon as I’m done here,” he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.  He dumped the jar back over, and began again.  </p><p> </p><p>Nicole leaned to peer out the door and let out a chuckle.  She caught Waverly's attention and nodded outside.</p><p>Waverly stepped over Doc carefully and looked at the scene in the front yard. </p><p>Indeed, a slushy snowman was wearing Doc’s hat.  It and its friends had also been generously endowed with an assortment of erect body parts not typically bestowed on snowmen. </p><p>“Rachel Valdez!  That is not what those gourds were for!” Waverly shouted.</p><p>Rachel spun around, gourd in hand, guilty.  She stepped in front of a snowman to block it from view and shouted back, “It was Wynonna’s idea!”</p><p>“Traitor,” Wynonna hissed, pelting her with a snowball, which missed its mark entirely and found Jeremy’s face instead. </p><p>Waverly shook her head and closed the door on them all.  </p><p> </p><p>Waverly squatted down in an effort to catch Doc’s eye, but he was focused.  “Hey Doc?  I’m so sorry about this.  You can stop counting now.”</p><p>“No, darling, I most certainly cannot.”</p><p>“I’ll just get the broom,” Nicole whispered to Waverly, a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>Doc hunkered down over the pile in response and bared his sharp teeth at them, eyes a little wild.</p><p>“Okay… never mind.”  Nicole tiptoed over to the stove and turned off the burners.  “It’s early.  I think we should just finish cooking later...”</p><p>Waverly nodded, looking down at Doc in pity.  “And we'll have to rinse that quinoa really well.”</p><p> </p><p>Nicole slipped a loose hand around Waverly’s wrist and backed them both slowly out of the kitchen, keeping an eye on Doc. </p><p>She shifted to whisper into Waverly's ear.  “You’re so smart.  I mean... it’s ridiculously attractive.  Have I mentioned that?”</p><p>Waverly blushed and studiously avoided her eye.  Nicole’s thumb, resting light on the inside of her wrist, was a little more than she could bear at the moment.</p><p>"All in all, this is kind of a typical holiday for us," Waverly whispered back, avoiding the compliment.  "We're nearly always absolute chaos."</p><p>Nicole chuckled.  "You're all nuts and I'm having a great time.  But," she said, as they reached the hall, "I do have a few questions...” </p><p>Waverly grimaced.  "I bet you do."</p><p>Nicole nodded back towards the kitchen.  “He’s a vampire?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, about that…”  Waverly bit her lip, hesitating.  Well, Nicole hadn’t run yet.  “He is.  And Dolls is kind of a dragon.”</p><p>Nicole thought for a moment, then nodded, nonchalant.  “Okay, yeah.  Sure.  That all checks out, really.  And Wynonna is dating one of them?”</p><p>Waverly shrugged and shook her head with fond exasperation.  “Depends on the day.  Honestly, the three of them are a piece of work.”</p><p>“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Nicole said.  “So they are a vampire, a dragon, and a hot mess, in a love triangle.”</p><p>Waverly nodded.  “Yep.”</p><p>“So, what are you then?”  Nicole asked, tugging gently on Waverly's wrist to draw her closer.</p><p>Waverly quirked her head and smiled, coy.  “An angel,” she said, “and currently single.” </p><p> </p><p>Delighted and a little dizzy with her own boldness,  Waverly slipped from Nicole’s grasp and twirled away.</p><p> </p><p>Nicole watched her go, grinning and entirely smitten.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know when you hear a random piece of vampire trivia on Ask Me Another, and then construct an entirely unrelated multi-chapter fic around it?  No?  Huh... well, more fluff to come :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Thursday, part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eventually, Waverly reclaimed the kitchen and repaired the damage done earlier.  Nicole smashed avocados and sautéed vegetables while Waverly tended to the injured quinoa.</p><p>When they were nearly finished preparing the meal, Jeremy and Rachel wandered in, sniffing like cats on a whiff of salmon.  Waverly slapped their hands away from the bowls of chips and guac and sent them to set the table and pour the cider.</p><p>Under the guise of collecting silverware and mugs, Jeremy slipped in beside Waverly at the stove.  “Nicole is super cute,” he whispered, bumping his hip against hers.  “I want all the gossip later.  Rachel wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.” </p><p>She blushed a shade shy of the cranberry sauce she’d just dumped into a dish.  She shushed him and handed him the dish.  “Later,” she said under her breath, fighting a smile.  “Now go away!”</p><p> </p><p>They sat crowded around the kitchen table, with its single leaf straining to hold them all.</p><p>As always, Waverly served everything in large bowls, and they ate as a family.  They jostled and reached and shared plates.  Loud and laughing and grateful for another year together.</p><p>In an unspoken tradition, stories of years past bubbled up and were recounted with great drama and uproar.  The tofurkey was a recurring character, infamous and colored heavily with countless retellings.  </p><p>At one point, Wynonna nearly fell from the chair she stood on, gesturing wildly.  Doc had to steady her on the rickety seat while Rachel jumped to save the bowl of guac from imminent demise.  Jeremy laughed until cider dribbled out of his nose.</p><p>They stayed, gathered shoulder to shoulder, long after their plates were empty and serving spoons scraped bottom.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, the night called to them, and they shifted themselves heavily from their chairs.</p><p>Dolls insisted on cleaning up, with Wynonna’s begrudging help.  He shooed Waverly from the kitchen, despite her vehement protests.  It was a yearly battle, and he always won.</p><p>Doc and Rachel built the fire outside, while Jeremy dragged chairs out of the barn.  He said something as he passed Rachel that made her crack up and pulled a reluctant smirk from Doc as well.</p><p> </p><p>Waverly stood in the middle of it all, bursting with love for them and for this time together.  She blinked back tears from the joy of it, unwilling to miss even a single moment.</p><p>“I am starting to understand why these holidays are so special to you,” Nicole said from beside her, startling her out of her thoughts.</p><p>Waverly smiled softly up at her and squeezed her forearm. </p><p>She had a lot to say, a lot of gratitude to express for one particular addition to this particular holiday. But that would have to wait until she found the words. </p><p>“Come on,” she said instead, “let’s go pull together snacks.”</p><p> </p><p>Soon, the fire was crackling happily, and darkness was falling.  Everyone piled on coats and boots and blankets and settled around it, huddled close to its merry warmth. </p><p>Every part of these holidays together was the best, but this part always was the best of the best. </p><p>Hours passed around that fire.</p><p>At some point, Doc began to sing old country songs in a low, mournful voice, like he always did when he’d had a little whisky and was feeling the unbearable sweetness of times like this.  Rachel joined in on the ones she’d picked up from him, and spurred on by the joy of them, Waverly added her voice on occasion in quiet harmony.</p><p>Jeremy started telling nonsense jokes after half a glass of whiskey, all of which Wynonna found hilarious.  Dolls switched Jeremy back to apple cider and dragged him back into his seat when he drifted too close to the fire, mesmerized. </p><p>In yearly tradition, Wynonna and Dolls challenged anyone who was brave enough to face them in a popcorn catching competition.  <em>No hands,</em> that was the only rule, taken with the utmost seriousness.  Jeremy and Rachel were foolish enough to volunteer and were handily decimated.</p><p> </p><p>Well into the night, Waverly leaned over and assessed the snack situation.   It was looking grim.   She ate the last of the pretzels, then stacked up the nearly empty bowls. </p><p>“I’ll refill those,” Nicole said, taking the bowls.  She winked, silly, flickering in the firelight.  “I am largely responsible for the depleted cookie supply anyway!”</p><p>With that, she rose and headed towards the house.</p><p> </p><p>Wynonna and Dolls, gloating about their popcorn competition win, whooped and high-fived.  He tossed a piece in the air behind his back and Wynonna dove for it, mouth wide and ready. </p><p>She missed by a hair but succeeded in landing one elbow squarely in the large bowl of popcorn, which exploded. </p><p>“Shit!” she hissed, brushing popcorn off her lap and picking it out of her hair. </p><p>Everyone else was laughing, smack talk flying in abundance, but Waverly’s head was suddenly radio static. </p><p>She reached forward slowly and picked up the upturned bowl from its spot in the dirt. </p><p>Wynonna caught the change in her face and grimaced apologetically.  “Sorry, Baby Girl.  Irresponsible snack attack.  Should have learned my lesson after the Great Gummy Bear Debacle of 2018.”</p><p>Waverly shook her head, a small smile spreading quickly.  “No, it’s no problem.  I bought tons.  I’ll go refill it.”  She stood and turned towards the house.</p><p>As she walked, her heart ticked out each second of Nicole Haught’s head start.</p><p> </p><p>Nicole had managed to locate all the spare snacks and had refilled three bowls to the brim.  She had not, however, made a comprehensive plan for exiting the kitchen with said snacks. </p><p>Three bowls, balanced precariously, one on top of the other.  Her chin, hooked on the edge of the top of the tower, steadying them only barely. </p><p>Tentatively, she let go with one hand and started to reach for the door knob, which turned on its own. </p><p>She looked up, careful not to unseat a single pretzel, and found Waverly watching her at her through the window, clearly amused at her acrobatics.</p><p>Nicole grinned and took a step back, letting Waverly swing the door open.</p><p>“Your timing is impeccable,” Nicole chuckled as Waverly slipped into the room.  “Did we run out of something else?”</p><p>Waverly lifted the dirty bowl.  “Popcorn casualty.”</p><p>“A tragedy,” Nicole said, shifting the bowls in her arms slightly.  The top one wobbled ominously.  “Speaking of tragedies, could you take one of these before I make a mess?”</p><p>Waverly set her own bowl down, then removed the top bowl from Nicole’s stack and set it on the counter.  Then she took the second.  Then the third, leaving Nicole empty handed.</p><p>Nicole raised an eyebrow and she opened her mouth to ask, but the question died on her lips. </p><p>Waverly met Nicole’s eyes and held them as she leaned back against the door and clicked it shut.  She took a deep breath, steadier than she’d felt in the past three days.  Not taking her eyes off Nicole’s, slow and deliberate, she reached up over her shoulder and flipped the lock.</p><p>A dare.  Gauntlet thrown.</p><p>Nicole’s quizzical grin slipped into something else, something less playful and more <em>challenge gladly accepted.  </em></p><p>She closed the distance between them carefully, leaving plenty of time for either party to call the bluff and take an easy out. </p><p>Neither did. </p><p>Waverly slipped her hands into Nicole’s coat, finding light purchase on the curves of her hips. </p><p>Nicole pressed one hand to the doorframe and touched her forehead to Waverly’s with a shuddering breath. </p><p>A shared shiver of anticipation ran through them. </p><p>Nicole tucked a strand of hair behind Waverly’s ear, then traced down her jaw, one thumb finding the tender edge of her bottom lip.</p><p>“You have been,” Nicole whispered, hoarse and happily so, “the most delightful surprise.”</p><p>Waverly pulled Nicole flush against her and they waited no longer.</p><p>In a bright kitchen on a cold night, time and space ceased to exist.</p><p>It was just the kitchen door and two of them, lips and hands and reverent sighs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Midnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The demand for air caught up to them eventually.  They broke apart just enough to enjoy each other’s giddy smile.</p><p>“I’ll admit,” Nicole said, breathless.  “I accepted Wynonna’s invitation just so I could get to know you.”  She grinned, a little wry and very flushed.  “But I had no idea how amazing you’d be.  I had no idea.”</p><p>Waverly sighed shakily, resting a hand on Nicole’s chest to steady herself. </p><p>Nicole covered the hand with her own for a moment, then leaned in again as Waverly’s eyes drifted shut.</p><p>Three snowballs breaking loudly in rapid succession against the window behind Waverly’s head caught them off guard and put a stop to their plans.</p><p>They both burst out laughing.  Waverly dropped her head against Nicole’s shoulder.</p><p>“We’d better get back out there soon, or they’ll come looking for us,” Waverly said, with a tinge of regret.</p><p>“Okay, yeah.  The people demand snacks.”  Nicole visibly dragged herself a step away from Waverly, who pulled her back immediately for one more kiss.</p><p> </p><p>They sat side by side on a log, a blanket wrapped tightly around them. </p><p>Waverly could barely stand it.  Every bump of a shoulder called up memories of Nicole’s lips hot on her neck only moments ago. </p><p>She thought there was an excellent chance she would not survive long enough to see what happens next.  Nicole’s thumb, drawing slow patterns on the inside of her knee, might do her in completely.</p><p> </p><p>In their absence, Jeremy and Dolls had started telling wild BBD stories, almost certainly laced with a hint of truth, but nearly entirely fiction. </p><p>As they listened, Doc and Wynonna had hunkered down over a game of cards, spread out on a log between them.  The game was getting tense, as it always did.</p><p>Rachel got up from her chair next to Jeremy and stretched.  She walked over to plop down at Waverly’s feet.</p><p>“Hey,” Nicole said, smiling down at Rachel.  She reached deep in her coat pocket and pulled out her phone.  She tapped through a few screens then handed the phone to Rachel.  “I dug around last night and found this.” </p><p>“Oh, shit,” Rachel muttered, under her breath, cupping the phone in her hands. </p><p>On the screen was a photo of the two of them from years ago.  Rachel, no more than 6 or 7 years old, stood beaming beside a younger Nicole, who had an arm thrown around her shoulders. </p><p>“That was from the weekend your mom let me take you rock climbing.  Do you remember?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Rachel breathed, zooming in on their faces.  “That was a really great summer.  I was so happy.”  She looked up at Nicole, her smile wide but tinged with sadness.  “A lot has changed since then.”</p><p>Nicole reached out for her and tugged her into an awkward hug.  Rachel hastily brushed a tear from her eye and turned towards the fire, settling back against Nicole’s knees. </p><p>Nicole ran her fingers through Rachel’s hair and met Waverly’s eyes, at a shared loss.</p><p> </p><p>Rachel fell asleep a little after midnight, slumping back against Nicole’s shins, her head resting on Waverly’s lap.</p><p>“Where does she live?” Nicole asked Waverly, hushed.  “Who takes care of her?”</p><p>“She has a little room downtown and fends for herself,” Waverly said, brow strained.  “It’s totally unsuitable.  We’ve tried and tried to convince her to live here with us, but she’s stubborn and independent and she refuses every time.”</p><p>Nicole considered Rachel for a long moment.  “I’ll have a spare room in my apartment,” she whispered, running a soothing fingertip down the bridge of Rachel’s nose.  “I wonder if she’d live with me.”</p><p>Waverly sucked in a sharp breath and caught Nicole’s chin in her palm, pulling her close and kissing her hard and fast.  “Gods, I like you, Nicole Haught.”</p><p> </p><p>Waverly caught Dolls's eye and tilted her head towards Rachel.  He nodded, a fond smile. </p><p>On light feet, he scooped Rachel up and carried her into the house.  Waverly followed and tucked her in on the couch.</p><p>They walked back out to the fire together. </p><p>“Another great night, Waverly.  Thank you for this,” he said, warmth seeping through his formality.  “This time together… it matters.”</p><p>She slipped her arm around his waist and he wrapped his around her shoulders. </p><p>“Yeah,” she said as they neared the fire and the family gathered there, “it really does.”</p><p> </p><p>Jeremy called it quits not long after Rachel did, his yawns growing long enough to unhinge a jaw.  Waverly caught a yawn, contagious, and passed it to Nicole. </p><p>Laughing, Waverly patted Nicole’s knee.  “Time for bed, I think.”</p><p>Wynonna drank the final sip of her whiskey and folded her hand of cards.  “I’m out too.  You win, cowboy.”</p><p>Doc took the cards from her and offered them to Dolls.  “Surely you still have an hour left in you, Dolls.  One game?”</p><p>Dolls chuckled as he rose.  He clapped Doc on the shoulder.  “I know better to play cards with you at this time of night, friend.” </p><p>He nodded to the rest and headed for the barn.</p><p>Waverly ducked to kiss Doc on the top of his head.  “You’ll handle the fire, Doc?”</p><p>“Of course,” he said.  “You all sleep well.”</p><p>She smiled softly at him and joined Nicole and Wynonna, who were heading towards the house.  Halfway there, she paused and turned back, worry flickering across her brow.</p><p>“I left you some books in the barn, to pass the time.  Try to get some rest.” </p><p>He nodded his head, and waved her on, his face a flickering mix of love and bittersweet and old exhaustion in the light of the fire.</p><p> </p><p>Wynonna said goodnight at the base of the stairs, leaving Nicole and Waverly to trudge up alone.</p><p>The stretch of hallway between one bedroom door and the next was waiting for them, anticipation singing in its walls.</p><p>As they neared the top of the stairs, Waverly grew quiet, her face drawn and serious.</p><p>They stopped at Waverly’s door.  She fidgeted with her hands, shifting on her feet, restless and unsettled.</p><p>Nicole waited, patient and curious.</p><p>“Thank you for all your help today,” Waverly said, then stopped herself from continuing.  That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say.</p><p>“Thank <em>you</em>,” Nicole said.  “A delicious meal and a wonderful night.” </p><p>Waverly shook her head and brushed the compliment away impatiently, still searching.</p><p>She took a deep breath and tried again.</p><p>“This is a family,” she started.  “It was just Wynonna and I, and she’s everything to me, but it wasn’t enough.”</p><p>She paused again, frustrated with herself.</p><p>“I mean, this life can be so heavy, and we couldn’t carry it alone.  So, we built this family, shared our burdens and took a share of theirs.  Fought for each of them, and kept fighting.  <em>Keep</em> fighting, present tense.  This family is hard won, and that makes nights like these even sweeter and brighter and singularly cherished.  These nights were earned, and they didn’t come easily.  They matter, more than they seem to on the surface.”</p><p>Nicole didn’t speak.  She held her breath, waiting.</p><p>Waverly sighed, deflated and still unsatisfied with herself.  She tried once more.  “I guess, I’m just trying to tell you that you should stay.  You were unexpected and you fit seamlessly, and you should stay.  In this family, I mean.” </p><p>She reached out and squeezed Nicole’s hand, once, quick.  “Nicole, you should stay,” she finished.</p><p>Nicole smiled softly, but before she could respond, Waverly slumped against her door and squeezed her eyes shut. </p><p>“Never mind,” Waverly groaned, flustered, clearing the air with her hands sharply.  Thin veins of anxiety in the movements.  “It’s late and I’m not making sense!  Goodnight!” </p><p>The final word rung with false cheer, dissonant and jarring.</p><p>She moved to open the door, retreating, but Nicole caught her wrist. </p><p>Very slowly, she slid her fingertips down Waverly’s palm until they were hand in hand.</p><p>Waverly shivered deeply.</p><p>Nicole tilted Waverly’s chin up and waited for Waverly to meet her eyes.</p><p>“I have been alone most of my life, ever since I was a kid,” Nicole said, voice low in her chest.  “Even when I had people, I rarely truly had them.  There’s a kind of emptiness to that kind of life, a subtle loneliness, unrelenting.”</p><p>She took one step forward, leaving only inches between them. </p><p>“I understand that family, real family, can’t be taken for granted.  I’ve never had a family like this, Waverly.  But I think I do now, if I understand you correctly.  It’s only been three days, and already I would fight to keep each of you, already I would beg to stay.”</p><p>Waverly surged up onto her toes and kissed the final words from Nicole’s lips, nearly knocking her backwards. </p><p>“Hey, lovebirds,” Wynonna hissed, peeking around the top of the stairwell.  “Enough of the gross heart to heart.  Go to bed!”</p><p>They broke apart, tears in their eyes but laughing still. </p><p>“Sorry!” Waverly called quietly towards the stairwell, not sorry at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, Waverly,” Nicole whispered, ducking her head to catch Waverly’s lips once more before turning away.</p><p>Waverly leaned back against her door and watched Nicole walk down the hall. </p><p>At her door, Nicole glanced back over her shoulder, her face bright and open and full.  Waverly was utterly overwhelmed in that gaze.</p><p>“Goodnight, Nicole,” she whispered back.  “Welcome to the family."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Friday, the end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As she climbed in bed, lips still tingling, Waverly had been certain she wouldn’t sleep a wink.  But she was dead wrong.  Her happy heart sung quietly and lulled her into a long, deep sleep.</p>
<p>When she woke the next morning, sunlight was already streaming into her bedroom in full force, and she could hear the quiet murmur of voices downstairs. </p>
<p>
  <em>Shit.  </em>
</p>
<p>She sprang from bed, barely pausing to tie up her wild hair and throw on a sweater, and dashed downstairs.  She had meant to be up early, to set up breakfast and start the fire.</p>
<p>But she needn’t have worried.  Downstairs, she found the fire already crackling in the fireplace, and the smell of cinnamon strong in the air.</p>
<p>Nicole and Rachel sat in chairs by the fire in quiet conversation, cradling bowls in their hands, mugs and plates balanced precariously on the arms of their chairs. </p>
<p>Doc sat in a corner, strumming on his guitar, a faint trail of icing on his mustache. </p>
<p>Nicole glanced up as she heard the bottom step creak.</p>
<p>“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said quietly, with a soft smile. </p>
<p>Waverly blushed lightly, tugging on her sweater.  “I’m sorry.  I should have been up.  The fire… and breakfast is-”</p>
<p>“Handled,” Dolls finished, appearing behind her in the kitchen doorway.  He handed her a steaming bowl of steel cut oats, with a cinnamon roll balanced on top.</p>
<p>“Your crockpot oats are delicious.  Send me the recipe, please,” he said, taking a large bite from his own bowl and brushing past her to sit by the fire.</p>
<p>Waverly melted a little.  Then, noticing Nicole’s boots by the door, still wet from an early morning visit to the wood pile, she melted a lot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jeremy wandered in next, hair sticking straight up, mumbling hellos.  Squinting in the light, he made his way into the kitchen, scooping a large bowl of oats from the crockpot and fishing around in the oven for two cinnamon rolls. </p>
<p>Wynonna woke last, shuffling in and plopping down next to Waverly.  She reached over and stole a large bite of Waverly’s cinnamon roll. </p>
<p>“Get you own,” Waverly said, laughing, shoving Wynonna off the arm of her chair.  Wynonna grinned and kissed her messily on the forehead, leaving a faint trail of sticky icing in her wake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stuffed and warm and happy, they let the morning pass easily.  They savored the final hours of this little oasis of comfort and good company.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, the world called them back, one by one.  With kisses on cheeks and hugs and <em>thank yous, </em>the house slowly emptied. </p>
<p>They’d all see each other soon, tomorrow or the next day or the next.  There was plenty of work to be done, and side by side, they’d do it. </p>
<p>But these hours together, the ones set aside and kept from the world, those were the ones that solidified their bonds.  Replenished them and made them family.  Reminded them to be thankful and awed by these people and this love.</p>
<p>The goodbyes always made Waverly’s heart ache sweetly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Doc left first, with Rachel in tow.  Then Dolls and Jeremy. </p>
<p>And finally, Wynonna, finding herself restless as the quiet began to descend, already craving a bit of chaos again. </p>
<p>“I’m going for a ride,” she said, pulling on her boots.  “I’ll see you tonight,” then a wink, “or tomorrow.  We’ll see where the day takes me.”</p>
<p>Waverly hugged her hard and leaned against the porch railing to watch her go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the engine noise faded down the road, Waverly heard the tap turn on in the kitchen. </p>
<p>Quite suddenly, her heart forgot all about the bittersweet ache of another holiday passing. </p>
<p>Quite suddenly, her heart remembered what was still to come, the potential simmering underneath the days of bustle and multitude of distractions.</p>
<p>Waverly was now painfully aware of Nicole’s footsteps around the kitchen. </p>
<p>Keenly aware that they were alone. </p>
<p>
  <em>Well, shit. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well,” Nicole said, leaning back against the counter.   “This has been the best three-day, surprise, supervised blind date I’ve had in a while.”</p>
<p>Waverly chuckled, kicking the door shut gently and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “Yeah.  Kind of sad to see it end, to be honest.”</p>
<p>“I mean,” Nicole shrugged and looked down, pushing away from the counter.  “We have the rest of the day.  It doesn’t have to end yet.”</p>
<p>She glanced up and caught Waverly’s eye, her smile wily and questioning.</p>
<p>“True, we have no supervision now,” Nicole continued, quietly, taking another step towards Waverly, “but I think we could manage without.”</p>
<p>“What are you proposing?” Waverly asked, her voice light in contrast to her blown pupils.</p>
<p>Nicole grinned, and closed the gap between them. </p>
<p>The door rattled in its frame as Waverly stepped back, a shuddering sigh escaping from her. </p>
<p>No contact yet, just Nicole Haught, half an inch away from her, dimples and mischievous eyes.</p>
<p>“Well,” Nicole said, ducking her head to ghost her lips across Waverly’s jaw, “we could do all these dishes.”</p>
<p>“We could,” Waverly said through a shallow breath.</p>
<p>“Or,” Nicole slid her palms down Waverly’s sides excruciatingly slowly, “we could sit and talk for a while.  Get to know each other.”</p>
<p>Waverly didn’t manage an answer this time.  Just a nod and a groan and a hand fluttering up to find desperate purchase on Nicole’s sweater.</p>
<p>“Or,” Nicole’s hands traveled lower, to the backs of Waverly’s thighs. </p>
<p>She picked Waverly up then, pinning her firmly against the door.  Waverly wrapped her legs around Nicole’s waist and held on for dear life.</p>
<p>Nicole bit down lightly on Waverly’s ear lobe and whispered, “or, we could-”</p>
<p>Waverly cut her off with a kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
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